


Heart Like a Four-Poster Bed

by Care



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Bodyswap, F/F, Fingerfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Care/pseuds/Care
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life lessons: don't touch unfamiliar Kryptonian rocks. Cat and Kara find out the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Like a Four-Poster Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grevling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grevling/gifts).



> I want to throw all the garbage in the world at [grevgrev](http://grevgrev.tumblr.com/) because she's the one who prompted me and it went wildly out of control. I really thought this was going to be like 2000 words. What can I say? I love bodyswap.
> 
> Lots of love and thanks to [mermaidandthedrunks](http://mermaidandthedrunks.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing and cheerleading. You are still Satan. Don't think you've wormed your way out of that one.
> 
> Title from [Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell](http://www.martyoutloud.com/frida-kahlo-to-marty-mcconnell/) by Marty McConnell.

To be honest, Kara’s not entirely sure why Carter asks her either. He just turns up one afternoon by her desk, hovering there nervously as she asks him how school’s going and what’s he been up to. He nods and gives her one-word answers, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, until Kara can no longer keep up the bright one-sided patter and is forced to inquire about what he’s doing there. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, staring hard at at Kara’s collection of neon paperclips, and wordlessly hands her a piece of paper.

Parent chaperones needed for a field trip. Two weeks from now. The National City Museum of Science and Technology. Kara stares at the words running down the page, faintly stunned. At the bottom there's enough room for two signatures — two parents — and Kara just takes it all in. Carter gazes expectantly at her, his whole body the very image of silent pleading. Like if he bounces on the balls of his feet enough, or if he widens his eyes just a bit further, she’ll give in and say yes.

The weird thing is — Kara kind of _wants_ to say yes.

“Uh,” is all she manages to get out though.

“Please?” Carter says, bearing an uncanny resemblance to one of the puppies on Kara’s puppy-of-the-month calendar she got from Alex.

It takes Kara another second to figure out how to make words again. “Don’t you think you should be asking...your mom?”

“She won’t come.” Carter’s expression clouds. November. He definitely looks like the November puppy. The one that’s sitting in a puddle of spilled water. “Not that — I’m sure she’d want to. It’s just that she’s always busy, so I don’t even try and ask her anymore.”

“Oh,” Kara says awkwardly. “Well. Carter, I don’t know if I should say anything without first talking to your mom about it — “

“Talk to me about what?”

Shit. Kara winces, turning towards Cat’s office door. She’s standing there, hands at her hips, regarding Kara and Carter with suspicious eyes. Kara doesn’t like the twist of Cat’s mouth. It makes her feel like something terrible’s about to happen, like an omen for an impending storm. It doesn’t seem to faze Carter though. He squares his shoulders like he’s readying himself for battle.

“I asked Kara if she would chaperone my field trip to the science museum. You know, the one I told you about.”

Silence. Kara chances a glance at Cat’s face. It’s stony, unreadable. Not good.

“Kiera’s very busy working for me, sweetheart. That’s her job.” Kara’s worked for Cat long enough that she recognizes the tension in Cat’s voice. This careful tightrope walking of false cheer.

“Maybe you could give her the day off though. Please, Mom? All the other kids, they have parents who come volunteer and stuff. Jake Peterson's dad baked this awesome cake when he came in to help out with the Roman Fair last month. It was this ancient cake recipe he found on the internet, and he used like a thousand pounds of honey and he told me all about it, even though Jake is always mean to me — “ Carter cuts himself off. “I just mean that I’d like to have someone there, and I thought Kara might like the science museum.”

If it were physically possible for Kara to teleport herself out of her seat and go _anywhere else_ , she would. She tries to look down at her desk. Cat’s going to murder her for being privy to this moment, this weird vulnerable thing with her son, and as soon as Carter leaves, she’s going to take it out on Kara.

“I could chaperone the field trip. You could’ve asked me.”

Again, that fake bright note, though a little more fraught with hurt. Kara bites her lower lip and pretends to be _very_ engrossed in her email. She even slides down a little in her chair, hoping to minimize her presence.

“Oh, I thought...” Carter mumbles, sounding uncomfortable. “I — I kind of already asked Kara. But you could come too, I guess. Mr. Cho’s always saying he could use more parent volunteers.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll come on the field trip. Here, give me the form. When is it?”

Carter hangs back, stubborn. “I want Kara to come too. I invited her, and it’s rude to disinvite someone. You told me that. Remember? My 10th birthday party. You made me invite everyone."

“Yes, I remember. Curse me and my good manners. Well, Kiera, you heard him. Will you be joining us on this field trip?”

Kara’s head shoots up immediately at the question, locking eyes with a very dangerous-looking Cat Grant. Kara has Supergirl’s heat vision, but she’s not sure that would even save her from Cat right now. She gulps.

“Um.”

“Please, Kara?” Carter asks.

“Yes, Kiera. By all means, join me and my son. We can even carpool,” Cat says in a flat, cool tone.

It takes her a minute to answer. She's not sure what Cat wants her to say anyway — yes, to make Carter happy, or no, because she wants the time with him. But she does want to go, and in the end, it's what makes the decision for her. Kara pastes on a happy smile for Carter and turns to face him. “Sure. I’d love to. And I’m very honored that you thought of me.”

Cat gives a derisive snort from her office doorway, but Kara ignores it. Instead, she makes a big fact of finding just the right pen to sign the form with. She scrawls her signature across the bottom of the page, printing her name beneath it in block letters, and hands it back to Carter. He beams, walking it over to his mother. Kara watches Cat scrutinize the form and, no doubt, Kara’s signature.

“Pen, Kiera,” Cat says, palm open, expectant and bored, and Kara has to walk around her desk and place her pen in Cat’s hand. She stands off to the side as Cat scribbles on the sheet, giving it back to Carter.

“Thanks, Mom.” He stuffs it carelessly back into his backpack. Kara tries not to laugh at the expression on Cat’s face.

“You’re welcome, darling. Kiera, where were those proofs I asked for? Honestly, it’s like I’m talking to myself. Apparently it’s too much to ask that my assistant do some work around here.”

Kara grabs the proofs off her desk as Carter darts around it, heading towards the elevator. He throws Kara a huge grin and waves. 

“See you soon!” he calls across the office, and keeps waving until the elevator doors close. Kara waves back, feeling something warm in her chest.

“Kiera!” Cat barks from her office, ruining the moment.

Oh god, _that’s_ not going to be fun at all.

 

*

 

"Huh," Alex says, when Kara tells her what happened.

She swipes open the door to her lab at the DEO and says it again. Huh. Kara follows Alex in, her cape swishing behind her.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Alex says, squinting at some readings. "Just, um, it's a little weird, don't you think?"

Which, duh. Of course Kara know it's weird. She may be an alien, but she can at least tell that this specific situation is weirder than most other ones. "Yeah, but, he asked me."

"And that's very sweet, but it just seems like, maybe, that's not in your job description."

"Alex, I'm not doing it because it's part of my job. Though part of that original job posting _was_ making Miss Grant's life easier. I'm doing it because it's a nice thing, and I like Carter."

Alex sighs, spinning around. "Look, I'd get it if Cat couldn't make it and she asked you instead, but you're both taking the day off and accompanying her son to the science museum. That just seems — I don't know. It's not inappropriate, I guess, but it doesn't seem to be appropriate work behavior either."

"Yeah, because you're so professional," Kara says. "I bet anything that you and Lucy have — you've had sex in here." She says the last part in a whisper, like they aren't the only two people in the room.

Alex has the grace to look a little embarrassed, though not embarrassed enough by Kara's standards. "I don't know what you're talking about, Kara. This is a professional workspace for professionals. Anyway, what are you going to do if someone needs Supergirl?"

"I'll change somewhere. It'll be fine. I'm looking forward to it, I think. I've never been to the museum."

"Yeah, okay, the museum's pretty cool," Alex concedes. "Be careful with Cat though."

"I've got it. It's fine. I can handle her," Kara says, more confidently than she feels. "It's no worse than a Fort Rozz prisoner, right?"

Alex just looks dubious. "Maybe."

 

*

 

The next two weeks are, frankly, some level of Hell Kara was previously unaware of. Cat’s generally tolerable, on a day-to-day basis, even when something awful is happening, like her mother’s in town, or Lois Lane has won yet another Pulitzer. (”How many does that woman need? At some point, she has to be putting them in the bathroom.”) But even Kara, who can handle Cat at the worst of times, thinks she might be hurtling towards a breaking point. Cat’s mercurial, demanding, _mean._ Kara finds herself zipping back and forth to Noonan’s five times in one morning because Cat thinks there’s too much foam in her latte, then too little, then too thin.

“That’s what happens when Cat’s son likes you better than Cat,” Winn says unsympathetically when Kara returns with the last of the lattes. Cat rejects it, of course, dumpling it straight into the trash.

Kara drops into her chair, exhausted, and it’s not even noon yet. “You know that’s not true. I already explained to you why he asked me, and Cat’s coming along anyway.”

“Yeah, even better. A whole day with Cat Grant out of the office. Should be fun. For me, I mean. I look forward to hearing about it.” Winn keeps grinning, even after Kara throws a paperclip at him too forcibly, and it embeds itself into the side of his desk.

“Kiera!” Cat trills from her office, like on some level she’s _enjoying_ tormenting Kara, and Kara buries her face in her hands, groaning.

Winn swivels his chair. “Have a good time,” he croons, because apparently, he loves extreme schadenfreude.

"I will kill you," Kara hisses, and drags herself up to face Cat.

 

*

 

Cat makes good on her sarcastic promise to pick Kara up. Her town car pulls up to the front of Kara’s apartment building at 7 AM on the dot, idling by the curb as it waits for Kara. Kara’s surprised — she wasn’t expecting Cat to show up, especially since they hadn’t discussed it at all. But she gets a text on her phone as she’s idly eating some cold pizza, still in her pajamas — _Waiting downstairs_ — and nearly chokes.She has to superspeed herself into her clothes, scurrying downstairs so she won’t keep Cat waiting. But despite her best efforts, it’s 7:02 when she slides into the backseat.

“Tsk, Kiera,” Cat says, her eyes hidden behind a huge pair of sunglasses.

Carter scoots over to make room, all buzzing energy. “Kara, I’m so glad you’re coming. It’s going to be _amazing.”_

“Good morning, Miss Grant. Carter,” Kara says breathlessly. She straightens out her cardigan as the car begins to move into traffic.

It takes her a minute to settle herself, and only then does she realize she’s sitting very close to Cat. Carter’s chattering at an impressive clip by the other window, gesturing animatedly as he describes the current museum exhibits. Cat perches between Carter and Kara, her hands folded in her lap, her features still. Kara can’t read anything on her face when she’s wearing those sunglasses. She can feel the warmth of Cat beside her though, and she jumps when her arm brushes Cat’s. Cat makes an almost inaudible noise, this swift intake of breath, but Kara hears it regardless.

“S-sorry,” she mumbles, and tries to make herself as small as possible.

She listens to Carter ramble for the remainder of the drive, losing her train of her thought only once. Cat shifts beside her, crossing her legs, and the hem of her dress rides up just enough that it makes Kara blush. She manages to tune in again just as Carter asks her a question, but her mind’s useless. Just replaying that moment over and over again: the fabric of Cat’s dress sliding up, the strip of smooth skin underneath. Kara drags her eyes away with some degree of effort.

Oh my god, what is _wrong_ with her? Cat’s been basically playing mind games with her for two weeks and Kara’s staring at her _thighs_.

It's just — she's tired. Between Cat and the DEO, she hasn't had much time for rest lately. This weekend she'll hole up with Alex, order a ton of Thai food, and catch up on television.

"Hey," Carter says, when they pull up at his school. "Just — be cool, okay?"

"Who, me?" Kara laughs, suddenly nervous. "I'm always cool."

Carter rolls his eyes. "No, I'm talking to Mom. Please be cool. I think Tyler Gross might invite me to his birthday party and I don't want to mess that up."

Cat frowns, the first discernible expression she's had since Kara's gotten into the car. "Carter, you never have to ask me. I won't embarrass you in front of your classmates."

"You've just never done one of these things before," Carter mutters, and opens the car door.

Cat laughs, this small mirthless sound. "I guess he's mad at me for crashing his fun field trip. Apparently I'm not as much fun as you, my assistant."

"I really don't think that's true, Miss Grant," Kara says, quiet.

Cat doesn't say anything in return. Just sits there a beat longer. It makes Kara almost want to put a hand on her wrist, comfort her somehow. She doesn't though, and then Cat's getting out of the car, greeting a few of the other parents gathered around on the sidewalk. Kara follows, blinking in the bright sun, faintly disoriented. It feels warm on her skin, good, filling her cells with energy, and she stands still for a moment, just drinking it in. If she can just take in enough sunlight, maybe she'll get through this day with Cat.

It's another thirty minutes before they get the kids onto the bus. Thirty minutes of chaos as they all mill around in front of the gates, sorting out name tags and lunches and buddies. There's a brief moment of confusion when Kara introduces herself to Mr. Cho, Carter's science teacher, and she's almost definitely certain that he thinks she's Cat's much younger toy, but he's polite enough to shake her hand and welcome her to the trip. Kara puts on her name tag ("Kara Danvers — I belong to Carter Grant") and idly wonders when Cat will realize that they'll all have to pile onto this yellow schoolbus in a few short minutes.

It doesn't take long.

"Ben is just around the corner," Cat says, her mouth all pinched. "We can just have him drive us."

"I think we're supposed to partake in the _whole_ experience," Kara says.

"You'd think I pay enough for Carter's tuition that they could afford better buses. Make a note, Kiera. This year my donation will be earmarked for transportation."

On the bus, Carter sits near the front with his friend Mason, or as Cat refers to him, "the one whose family doesn't believe in vaccinations." They're both quiet, their heads bowed over a glossy museum brochure Carter procured from his backpack, ignoring the loud kids in the back. Kara finds a seat across the aisle from Mr. Cho. They exchange nods before Cat climbs in, gingerly taking the empty spot next to Kara, though not before thoroughly wiping it down with an antibacterial wipe. Of course. She's being so very mom-like in this moment that Kara's grateful Carter's busy and can't be embarrassed by his mother cleaning her hands with antibacterial gel.

"Miss Grant," Kara says, tentative.

"Don't start with me, Kiera. You don't know how many sticky hands have been all over this bus."

It's hard to argue with that logic. Kara shuts her mouth. Cat sits stiffly, her eyes focused straight ahead, like she's trying to transcend her physical environment with sheer will. Honestly, Kara's not positive it won't work. Part of her almost believes that Cat might start floating to avoid sitting on the seat. Kara stares out the window, listening to Cat steady her breathing in a way that suggests maybe she actually listened to that meditation instructor before she threw him out for being "too annoying."

"You…okay?" she asks after a long silence, the rhythm of Cat's breath echoing in her ears.

"Mmm," Cat murmurs.

Kara turns to her. Cat has her eyes closed, her mouth ever-so-slightly parted as she exhales. Up close, Kara notices the curve of Cat's lips, a faint line on her forehead not quite covered by makeup. She smells familiar, spicy and rich, and Kara's hand twitches in her lap. She pushes the memory of the town car very firmly from her mind.

"It's rude to stare, Kiera," Cat says, dry, not opening her eyes.

"Oh! Sorry." Kara jumps, her face immediately flooding pink. She can feel the heat in her cheeks.

She goes back to looking out the window, her blush spreading to her ears and down her neck. She has got to stop mooning after boss. This can't be good.

(Kara can't prove it, but she swears she can _hear_ Cat smirk behind her.)

 

*

 

By the time lunch rolls around, Kara's more than ready to call it a day. She's shepherded a group of 20 seventh-graders from exhibit hall to exhibit hall. There's been fighting and crying and one kid tried to climb over a railing so he could touch the model T-Rex in the dinosaur exhibit. Kara would rather rewind time and go back to dealing with a temperamental Cat than a classroom of pre-teens ever again. Luckily, there's at least one person they still listen to. Cat seems to be able to quail them with a glance, much like she does at CatCo. The kids drop into terrified silence when she speaks. Only Carter seems unaffected, carelessly playing with the hologram technology in one of the interactive rooms (courtesy of Maxwell Lord, Kara notes with some annoyance).

"Just one more stop before lunch," Mr. Cho announces, gesturing that the kids should regroup and follow him.

They form a scattered line, trailing him into the next room.

"Oh, it's just rocks," Carter's friend Mason says, disappointed.

The other kids make noises of agreement. Kara takes a closer look at the one nearest to the door. A small plaque informs her that it came from space debris and is of unknown alien origin. Her heart gives a surprised jump.

"This is the museum's collection of extraterrestrial debris," Mr. Cho clarifies, motioning to the display. "Mostly rocks, yes. Many come from planets we have yet to discover, made of material we have yet to isolate. This is just a small sampling of what we've found."

"This one's from Krypton," Carter says, his face close to the glass case. "It's _glowing._ "

Kara and Cat both approach him, gazing down at the unassuming rock with a faint yellow glow. A little piece of home, all the way here, locked away in this display case. Kara isn't really sure what it is, but it seems to hum with a pulse of its own, flickering with a pale light and seems to deepen in hue when she puts her palm against the case. As if it recognizes her as its own, even if she isn't quite sure what it is. Carter studies the plaque, reading it silently to himself, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"What's it say?" Kara asks.

Carter shrugs. "Not that much, actually. They know it's from Krypton, but they're not sure what it is. Scientists are studying other samples." He sighs, his gaze turning almost wistful. "I bet Supergirl would know. I bet if she came here, she'd be able to tell them."

Kara laughs. "Krypton's a big place. She probably hasn't seen it. I mean — " she quickly backtracks, noticing Cat's look. "I assume. It's a whole planet. I wouldn't know. I'm not a Kryptonian. That would be — stupid."

"Carter, I think Mason wants you to go over there," Cat says, putting a gentle hand on her son's head. She flattens a few wayward curls and gives him a slight push. "Go on."

The glowing rock has suddenly become the most engrossing thing in the galaxy to Kara. She stares down at it, nervously fiddling with her glasses.

"You need to be more careful, Kiera," Cat says, sounding bored. She takes a step closer, until she's almost pressed against Kara's side, both of them craning over the display case. "If you're not lucky, someone's going to just, oh, catch on."

Her heart stops. For a whole beat, suspended. Kara breathes and it starts up again, pounding furiously in her chest, going double-time.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Grant," she whispers.

"I don't like to be underestimated, _Kara_ ," Cat says back.

Well. Fuck.

Kara looks up, and Cat's expression is so very careful. Not angry, but there's something fierce in her eyes. It sends a bolt through Kara, skittering all the way down her spine. She can't look away, can't move. Cat's gaze locks her into place, one hand against the glass, her mouth gone horribly dry. Cat knows. She _knows_. Maybe Kara should have expected it earlier, but she thought she had dodged that bullet. That maybe Cat had dropped her suspicions and moved on. She should have known better — Cat never leaves a good story behind. Kara doesn't know why she thought Supergirl's identity would be any different.

There's no way Kara can do better than a Martian clone though, so she's not sure how she's going to worm her way out of _this_ one.

"I — " she starts and never gets to finish, because it's at that precise moment that Kara feels the glass giving away beneath the force of her hand, the shatter loud and violent in the small room, and she's falling down, down, down, pulling Cat Grant along with her.

 

*

 

Later, after she comes to on the floor of the room, surrounded by shards of broken glass, with a concerned paramedic bent over her, she's told the whole story. How the glass must have been unstable and cracked somewhere because it broke. How she and Cat tumbled together into the collection of rocks. How Cat was currently bleeding from a dozen thin cuts along her arms and legs, but how Kara was mysteriously fine. How she fainted — embarrassingly enough — and had to be revived by smelling salts. It's a thoroughly humiliating experience, and Kara brushes off the paramedic as politely as she can, gingerly lifting herself off the ground.

Cat's sitting nearby, being bandaged by another paramedic, looking unhappy with the whole situation. Kara steels herself and makes her way across the room.

"Miss Grant, that was all my fault. I'm so, so sorry."

"I didn't know you could faint," Cat says, slapping the paramedic's hands away. "If I want another bandage, I'll ask for one. It's as thin as a paper cut, and I'm perfectly capable of applying my own Band-Aids, _thank_ you."

"I — it was probably the shock," Kara says quietly, once the paramedic's huffily gone off, though she doesn't know entirely why it happened either. "From, um, what you said."

"Yes, well, maybe I could have chosen a more appropriate time." For a second she looks slightly abashed. Cat grimaces. "Still, we're both fine, it seems. Just some cuts here, and on you, nothing, obviously. Except — " She narrows her eyes and makes a turning motion with her finger. "Spin around. You have something… Yes, the side of your neck. There's a _scrape,_ Kiera."

Kara's hand flies up and immediately finds it, a spot on her neck where the skin's been rubbed raw. She hisses in pain as she gently probes it, confusion growing, but her fingers come back without blood. Just tinged with a slightly yellowish powder. It's weird. That shouldn't — it's never — Kara doesn't know what to make of it.

"That shouldn't happen," she says. "I should have — I mean, not when I still have my powers — "

" _Do_ you still have your powers?"

She and Cat both glance at the two paramedics, packing up their gear.

"For god's sake, how long does it take to get a bag together?" Cat snaps, and it does the trick. They scurry resentfully out of the room, throwing glares behind them.

There's nothing to use her heat vision on, so Kara tries flying instead. She lets herself float just a few inches off the ground. Her toes brush the carpeting, and her relief is instantaneous.

"Well, it's not that." Cat taps a finger against her chin in thought. "How strange."

The yellow powder has a strange smell to it, almost coppery, but something about it is distinctly different. Kara rubs it between two fingers, and it smudges her skin. Cat walks around the edge of the room, towards the broken glass pieces and the remains of the display case. She stoops down and brushes a few pieces of glass aside.

"I think I found your culprit," she says, and holds up her hand. Yellow powder.

It's the Kryptonian rock, Kara realizes, pulverized beneath the force of Kara's fall. She says as much to Cat, looking at the spot where the rock was clearly ground down. Cat reaches out a hand and the powder seems to leap to her fingers, clinging to her skin.

"Bizarre," Cat says. She shakes her hand, but the powder stays stubbornly on. "Why do you think it cut you? Are you sure you haven't seen it before?"

"I assume it must be able to affect me because it's from Krypton, but no, I've never seen it before." Her mind flits to Alex. "But I could probably ask someone to look into it."

"No need," Cat says, turning her hand back and forth. The powder's disappeared into her human skin, absorbed, leaving no trace. "It doesn't seem like it's affected us at all."

Kara stands, wondering. Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe it's just, for all intents and purposes, a normal Kryptonian rock. Though not like the normal Kryptonian rocks Kara knew about. She offers a hand to Cat without thinking, still on the floor. There's a moment's hesitation — Cat staring at Kara, Kara looking back. Cat takes the hand, folding her delicate fingers into Kara's palm, and the touch of Cat's bare skin sends an unexpected shock through Kara. She yanks Cat in her surprise, pulling Cat into her arms.

"I — I wasn't — " Kara stammers, finding Cat Grant's face inches from her own.

"No, I didn't think — it's fine. Kiera, it's fine," Cat says, immediately stepping back.

"It was an accident," Kara adds, lamely.

Cat nods, not looking at her. "Yes, of course. Accidents happen. Well, we should probably go out there. I'm sure Carter's worried. We've held up the group."

She marches off, leaving Kara standing there, and the room seems to grow smaller in Cat's absence. Ugh. Just a few more hours left in this terrible day and then she can have takeout and quality sister time, Kara thinks to herself, and follows.

 

*

 

The fall is all any of the kids can talk about for the rest of the day. Kara almost feels guilty for the accident overshadowing the actual museum excursion. She becomes an object of giggling whispers from children who immediately go silent when she approaches. At long last, they manage to finish lunch, sit through an astronomy presentation and spend twenty minutes in the gift shop. The gift shop is possibly the only thing that's more interesting than Kara's unfortunate fall, and Kara's more than happy to let them run off into the store with their cash. She stands outside, watching them through a large window.

She's never been more glad she doesn't have children of her own. Kara takes out her phone and checks her texts — one from James that she doesn't read yet, one from Winn asking if she's surviving, five from Alex wanting status updates on how the day is going. Kara grins and starts to reply to Alex.

Cat joins her after a minute.

"Not helping Carter pick out his souvenir?" Kara asks, still feeling awkward about their weird quasi-hug. Her ears burn unpleasantly whenever she thinks about it.

"No," Cat sighs. "He said if I gave him twenty dollars, he would pick it out himself. He didn't need me, apparently."

"He's trying some independence. I think it's normal."

Cat makes a small noise of acknowledgement. "I suppose. Did you push your mother away at his age?"

It's hard to say, that last year on Krypton. A lot of the memories have blurred together. Kara mostly remembers the feeling of tension in the air, the way every conversation seemed to be filled with things left unsaid. Astra came over less and less, until eventually she didn't come for dinner anymore. Her mother looked constantly worried. Kara must have wanted normal things, must have chafed beneath her parents' careful protection, but she can't find an example. She's too busy holding tight to the memory of her mother's face when her parents said goodbye.

"I apologize," Cat says, something flickering across her expression as she looks at Kara. Her eyes have gone soft, and that makes Kara's stomach flip. "I overstepped."

"No, Miss Grant. It's fine. I guess — I just don't really remember. It probably happened. It was a tumultuous time on Krypton, and my parents were very busy."

There's a beat. As if they're both thinking the same thing — how new and strange it is to be able to talk openly about things like Supergirl and Krypton. Kara bites her bottom lip, wondering if it's too much for Cat. She's learned, over the years, the difference between knowingand _knowing_.

"That sounds very hard for your mother," Cat says finally, glancing away.

Kara nods, watching her. "I think it was."

There's another silence between them. Kara rubs her thumb across her phone screen, wondering if she can text Alex back. Cat sighs, tilting her head back against the building.

"Um," Kara says. "Miss Grant, you won't be — are you going to make me quit again?"

Cat gives a little annoyed sniff. "Oh. Right. That. No, I've changed my mind. There are better uses for you. For instance, I trust I'll be getting my interviews from now on."

Of course. "When I can spare the time, Miss Grant."

"Hmm," Cat smiles, pleased. "I love the sound of that. Supergirl at my beck and call."

Okay, well, that's not — Kara starts, "Miss Grant — "

"Don't worry, Kiera. I won't be interfering with your world-saving. National City needs its hero, after all." Cat nods towards the museum doors. "I think the kids are finally done buying out the entire gift shop. Back to that broken metal tin on wheels they call a bus."

 

*

 

"Here's to you surviving," Alex knocks her carton of rice against Kara's. "Was it awful?"

"It wasn't _awful_ ," Kara says, dousing her rice with yellow curry. She stuffs a giant spoonful into her mouth.

Alex clucks her tongue. "You're way too nice, you know that?"

"Miss Grant was perfectly fine. It was…everything else. Kids are so loud, and they don't listen to anything you say. And there was that thing with the rock — oh my god, I forgot to tell you about the rock."

"Oh, fascinating. A rock. Tell me more."

Kara shoves Alex with her foot. Gently. "A Kryptonian rock."

Suddenly, Alex is interested. She sets down her plate and leans in. "What happened?"

It might have been a bad idea to bring it up, Kara suddenly realizes. Leave it to Alex to make a mountain out of a molehill when it came to Kara's well-being. But it's not like the rock got up and punched Kara in the face. She shifts forward on the couch, brushing her hair out of the way and exposes the scrape on her neck. It hasn't healed yet — another anomaly. She hears Alex's small noise of surprise.

"How did you get that?" Alex asks, moving in close to inspect the wound.

Kara tells the whole story — the rock room, the space debris, Cat Grant laying her cards out on the table. The table that unfortunately broke beneath Kara's hands. 

"So," Alex says slowly, after she throws back the last of her scotch. "Let me get this straight. Cat Grant now _knows_ that you're Supergirl. She confronted you and you fell on a Kyrptonian rock and it…cut you."

"Pretty much. Are you going to finish that?"

Alex shoves over the remainder of her dinner. "Why aren't you more freaked out? Last time you were freaked out."

Kara shrugs. "I don't know. I guess — it feels pointless. Denying it. She knows, Alex. She's not going to do anything." A brief moment of hesitation. "I trust her."

"Let me see your neck again."

Kara shows her the scrape, and Alex makes a thoughtful sound. She gets off the couch, padding to the bathroom in her socks, and returns a minute later with a first aid kit. Alex cleans the scrape with alcohol pads ("Ow!") and tapes a gauze bandage over it.

"Maybe you should come with me to the DEO. Get it checked out," Alex says once she's settled back on the couch.

"I'm fine," Kara insists. "Nothing bad's happened to me and it's been hours."

"Still." But Alex doesn't press. "You'll tell me if something comes up though, right?"

"You'll be the first to know," Kara promises.

 

*

 

That night Kara dreams of Krypton and its red sun, the light making her skin glow golden, warm against her face and hands.

She holds it cupped between her palms until it melts away into nothing.

 

*

 

The first thing Kara notices upon waking up is that the light's coming in from the wrong direction. She should sense it by now, her body arching towards the early-morning sunshine, hot and bright. Instead the air in the room feels cool and dark. There's a humming noise she doesn't recognize, so quiet in the background that it almost disappears, until Kara actually _listens_. She can't hear the usual sounds of traffic — just that strange humming against an otherwise padded silence that's both calming and unsettling all at once. She shifts in the bed and freezes. The sheets are silk, tangling around her calves, much softer than her usual Ikea brand.

She opens her eyes, and it's not her ceiling.

It's not any ceiling she recognizes. The room is dim, shrouded in heavy curtains. She blinks a few times, trying to wake herself up. Kara yawns into the crook of her elbow and it takes another second to realize that her arm is unfamiliar to her.

Now she's awake.

She throws off the duvet, examining herself. Everything present and accounted for but somehow different. Smaller. She splays a hand, studying her slender fingers, the delicate twist of her wrist. She has professionally manicured nails, but no jewelry. Her skin smells familiar, a combination of creams and moisturizers. She traces the shape of her jaw and nose and mouth — different — and combs through her blond curls — and Kara tries to remember to tell herself to breathe because she has a strong suspicion about where she is.

And more importantly, _who_ she is.

Kara slides out of bed and walks, slowly, across the hardwood floor to the bathroom. She flicks on the light.

"Fuck," she says, in Cat Grant's voice, to Cat Grant's reflection, staring back at herself.

 

*

 

This can't be happening.

It's a nightmare. Just a dream. If Kara can just wake herself up again, she'll be back to normal. Back in her own body. Back to being…well, not Cat. Anyone but Cat.

She pinches herself. It hurts. Shit, Kara thinks desperately. She's human. She stares down at Cat's hands, turning them around, seeing how easily every bit of this body could break. She doesn't know how people do it every day — just get out of their beds and go about their lives. How easily they could be hurt.

She wonders where Cat is, if she's currently in possession of Kara's alien body. If she feels the same sort of crushing shock, numbing her limbs.

It takes Kara a minute to move again, shuffling back into the bedroom to take stock of the situation. Breathe, she reminds herself, and sits down at the edge of the rumpled bed. She'll have to figure out what to do, problem-solve like she usually does. Cat's phone buzzes on the nightstand, startling Kara. She can't figure out how she's going to unlock the phone at first, but the touch ID recognizes her thumbprint, and there are emails upon emails upon emails filling the inbox before her eyes.

Oh, god. She's Cat Grant. Queen of all media. The most important person in National City.

She's going to have to go to _work._

Kara momentarily considers calling in sick, but rejects the idea almost immediately. Cat's never called in sick, not in all the time Kara's known her. Besides, maybe she'll see, well, herself at work. It's the closest thing to a plan Kara has, and she feels absolutely sick about it.

"Mom?" There's a knock at the door.

Kara jumps. Shit. Carter. She groans into her hand. She forgot about Carter.

"Mom, do you know where my backpack is? I didn't take it into my room last night."

"Uh," Kara croaks. "Did you check the living room?"

It's a wild guess, but she hears Carter's footsteps walk away from the door. Kara swallows. He returns after a few more seconds.

"I found it!" he calls happily, his voice muffled by the door. "It was by the coffee table. Okay, I'm leaving now. I have to meet Mason early to finish our report on the museum. I'll see you later."

Kara might say bye — she doesn't really know — and then she hears the front door close in the far distance and Carter's gone.

She swears in both English and Kryptonian. Every curse word she knows. How the hell is she going to do this?

 

*

 

She ends up calling Alex because there isn't a better option. There isn't some magic button in Cat's bedroom that says, "Press me to switch your body back." Kara checks. She paces the length of the room as she dials Alex's cell phone number — something she apparently still remembers — and anxiously waits for Alex to pick up. All her explanations come tumbling out at once when Alex answers, even though Kara had told herself she was going to be clearheaded about it. Instead she rambles for minutes, Alex listening, until finally — finally, Alex reluctantly agrees to come over to check out the situation for herself.

Which is how Kara finds Alex warily staring at her half an hour later.

"So, you say you're Kara." Alex says, her arms folded across her chest. "But you look like Cat Grant."

Kara throws up her hands helplessly. "I know what I look like, Alex, but I swear it's me. I mean — I can answer all the questions you want. I'm Kara. Kara Danvers. Kara Zor-El. Kara, your sister Kara. We work together at the DEO. One time we baked a cake for Eliza's birthday and I broke her favorite mixing bowl with my heat vision and you lied to her for me even though I didn't ask you to. I'm Kara."

"…Jesus, Kara," Alex breathes in surprise. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. I woke up like this," Kara says miserably. "Have you heard of anything like this before?"

Alex walks a slow circle around Kara. "I don't even know what _this_ is. You're literally someone else."

"I know."

"If you're here in Cat's body, then…where's Cat? Is she in your body?"

Kara shakes her head. "I have no idea. That's why I have to go to CatCo. See if Miss Grant's there. I — can you help me pick out something to wear?"

"Kara, you can't go to CatCo like this. Someone is bound to notice."

"I've been working for Miss Grant for two years. I think I can probably fake my way through one day," Kara says.

"You're way too nice to be Cat Grant. No one's going to believe it."

"Then — I'll be different. I can be different." Kara makes a face at Alex's skeptical look. "I totally can!"

Alex takes a few steps closer. "You're going to have to be mean."

"Oh, come on," Kara says. "She's not mean. She's, um, she's demanding. Sometimes irrational. But she's not — well, okay, sometimes she's a little bit mean. I guess. If you wanted to use that word. Miss Grant wants the best."

"Sure, that's one way of putting it," Alex says, but she crosses the room to Cat's enormous walk-in closet. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but I guess I'll help. What does Cat normally wear to work?"

 

*

 

Kara realizes this in theory, that she's going to have to get dressed. It's a whole new thing when she's faced with the reality. She stands in front of the outfit Alex has picked out — dress, jacket, heels — and she feels her heart fluttering at the base of her neck. Cat's heart. Kara's used to hearing its rhythm from across the room, from her desk, that steady thump-thump-thump a reminder that Cat's just a glass wall away. She places two fingers over the beat, feeling it jump against her skin, and takes a shuddering breath. Then another. Her mind goes again to yesterday's car ride and Cat's skirt. She can't stop thinking about it.

"You're going to have to do this," she mutters to herself in front of the floor-length mirror.

There's nowhere to go. The closet is roomy, but not so roomy that she can duck away. Kara slowly starts to unbutton Cat's pajama top, the material silky. The gap the shirt reveals grows wider and wider. There's the ridge of Cat's collarbone, the curve of her breast, the flat plane of her stomach. She watches it all in the mirror. Something tight is winding its way around Kara's chest, squeezing. Kara falters when she finishes, realizing she's going to have to slip the shirt off her shoulders completely.

She does.

It's a strange feeling, to watch yourself in a mirror and see someone else looking back. It's a stranger feeling to be attracted to the person staring into your own eyes. Kara wonders what that means about her, if it's in some way _wrong_. She sweeps her gaze down the length of Cat's naked torso and can't help but take notes. She looks away quickly, embarrassment prickling her cheeks. She's not some voyeur. Cat would be horrified if she knew. Kara turns her back to the mirror and slides the pajama bottoms off in one motion. She's not going to look. She grabs the dress Alex hung nearby, stepping into it.

Better. Almost normal. Kara zips herself up and turns around.

"Kara?" Alex says through the door. "How's it going?"

"I'm almost done," Kara says, a slight quaver in her voice.

She clears her throat and puts the heels on, gaining a few inches. She grabs the jacket and opens the closet door.

"Nice. Convincing," Alex says, looking her up and down. "Here, I found these." She presses a pair of earrings into Kara's hands. "Come on. I still have to do your makeup."

Forty minutes later, Kara's being shoved into the backseat of Cat's town car, Alex waving at her grimly. Kara leans back against the leather seat. Being Cat is exhausting, and she hasn't even made it into work yet. If this bears any resemblance to the morning routine Cat goes through, well, she would rather save the world any day. In the corner on a small screen, the current news from CatTV plays on mute. Nothing earth-shattering, until —

"You're quiet today, Miss Grant," Ben says from the front, carefully maneuvering them from the already-congested streets. "Nothing new in the world?"

"Oh — uh — busy. Just thinking," Kara stammers. "Ben, how do you, um, the volume on the TV…?"

He glances at her in the rearview, as if she's lost her mind. "The little compartment on your right, Miss Grant. Where all the remotes are."

"Right. I just, um, I have a headache, and…" Kara trails off, realizing she's making things worse. She sharpens her tone. "Ben, focus on the road, please. I'd like to get to work sometime this century."

"Of course, Miss Grant." Smooth, normal, totally unruffled. Thank god.

Kara fumbles for the remotes and turns up the volume on the news broadcast.

"…And, thanks to Supergirl, a massive nine-car pile-up on the 116 northbound lane was cleared up in a matter of minutes this morning. National City's very own Girl of Steel pulled three children from the wreck of a burning SUV."

There's footage, clearly taken from someone's shaky phone, of a red-and-blue streak against an early-morning sky. Kara watches as the unsteady camera zooms in, catching Supergirl bending the metal frame of a car, brow furrowed in concentration. It goes in and out of focus, sharpening against the S of Supergirl's suit, and softening again as Supergirl quickly scoops three sobbing kids from the car. She sweeps her cape to protect the kids from the flames, the line of her jaw set and serious, and the video cuts back to the anchors. It's like the strangest experience — even different from Bizzaro, even weirder than that — Kara watching herself save lives.

It's only been one morning and she already misses it.

The news moves on to a new baby polar bear at the National City Zoo. Kara switches it back onto mute and closes her eyes, that video of Supergirl saving those kids playing on a loop in her mind.

It's not surprising. Not if it's Cat. Cat, who's always wanted to protect National City, bound by the limits of her human body and abilities. Cat, who's always stood by Supergirl. Cat, who has braided the CatCo image with Supergirl's so tightly that the strands are hard to pick apart.

God, Kara hopes, it better be Cat. 

She's not sure she could stand it if it were anyone else.

 

*

 

Her knees shake.

Kara walks unsteadily into Cat's personal elevator, and she can feel her legs trembling. She has to brace herself against the wall for a second, take a breath. She fumbles for the button and counts the seconds as the elevator rushes her up. Fast, smooth, silent. Kara's never been more grateful for Cat's penchant for large sunglasses. She straightens them on the bridge of her nose as the elevator doors slide open with a soft ding.

The bullpen's noise dies down to a faint hum. Kara forces herself to mimic Cat's stride, marching straight past them into her office. She falters for a beat when she turns the corner around her usual desk — there's _her_ standing there, head slightly bowed, a latte in her hand. Kara locks eyes with herself. A beat passes. There's something fierce there, in the gaze. She has to wrench her attention away before she walks into Cat's glass wall.

"Ka — " she starts, before cutting herself off. "Uh. Kiera. Come with me."

She drops Cat's purse and jacket on the couch, goes immediately for the balcony doors, and waits for herself to follow. There's a slight bite to the air outside, a morning chill, and Kara feels it in a way she never really has before. She folds her arms, looking down into the street below.

She could fall, she realizes. She wouldn't survive that.

The thought makes her take a step back from the railing.

"Miss Grant."

Kara recognizes the wariness in her own voice. She spins around.

"Um," is all Kara manages, faced with her own body. How does she even begin to approach this?

"How eloquent. I see being in my body isn't helping you any, Kiera," comes the tart reply.

It takes a second for Kara to process it, but it comes in a flood of relief. It _is_ Cat, standing there, the expression on her face so familiar in its reproachfulness.

"It looks like you helped yourself to my closet. At least that outfit isn't…totally hideous," Cat says begrudgingly. "My choices, sadly, were a bit more limited. You actually own _more_ cardigans than I expected. One in practically every shade of the rainbow."

Kara flushes. "Miss Grant — "

"I had a slightly more grown-up outfit picked out," Cat continues. "But then I heard about the accident on the news, and I had to change. Flying was interesting. I used too much force at first, and you have to learn how to weave in and out of the wind currents, but I figured it out. The super speed — _that_ was handy when I realized I had to stop at Noonan's for the latte. Couldn't risk anyone suspecting something was wrong."

"Miss Grant — "

Cat folds her arms across her chest, taking a few steps towards Kara, closing the space between them. "So, yes, this morning's little experiment has been fun. But superpowers aside, I didn't work my ass off for twenty-some years to find myself back in the body of a twenty-four-year-old. I'm not one of those women. I _like_ the life I have. So, please, Kiera, for god's sake, undo whatever alien thing it was you did to get me _out of here._ "

Kara swallows. Cat's barely inches from her nose, her voice menacing and low. The temperature of the air around them seems to rise. Kara nervously takes a step back.

"Miss Grant, I promise, I would if I could. I don't know how this even happened," Kara says.

"You have worked for me long enough to know that I do not accept failure, Kiera. Fix this."

Kara nods. "I — my sister's working on it. I trust her."

"Well, in the meantime, there's no possible way I can stay at your apartment. The interior is acceptable, I guess, but I've become accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle. I'm not ashamed to admit that. It's Friday. Carter is away this weekend — my ex-husband is getting remarried for the second time — so I will be at the penthouse."

"Uh." Kara nods again, feeling a bit like she's being bulldozed. "Should I…go back to my place?"

"The last thing I need is someone snapping a picture of Cat Grant at her assistant's apartment. No, you'll have to keep this charade up and come home with me. Don't look so nervous, Kiera. You're going to give it all away."

Kara offers her a tiny smile. She's not quite sure why. The situation hasn't changed any. She's still stuck in Cat's body. But having Cat there with her feels better. It takes some of the weight off. The corner of Cat's lips twitch slightly, but she doesn't give in.

"It's weird. Isn't it?" Kara says.

"Mmm," Cat murmurs. "Yes, it's rather odd. Suddenly having someone privy to your…private life."

Kara blushes. Cat probably doesn't even mean anything by it, but the way it sounds to Kara, intimate and vulnerable, makes Kara's heart start to pound.

"At least it's not a stranger. God knows what someone off the street would do." Cat frowns and a thought seems to occur to her. "Was Carter suspicious this morning?"

"No. I didn't, um, see him. He asked me something through the door and said he had to be at school early."

Cat sighs, drumming her fingers against the railing. "That saves me some explaining. Well, come on, back to my office. I actually need to get some work done today, and it seems it'll be more burdensome than usual."

She puts a hand on Kara's upper arm, the heat of her palm startling against Kara's skin. Kara starts beneath her touch. Has her body always run that warm? Cat tugs her in the direction of the door. She's careful — Kara can feel her remember to be gentle, her fingers loosening their grip on Kara's bicep — but Kara suspects there's going to be bruising.

"Miss Grant," she says. "I think you have to let go of me. Your office is made of glass."

Cat drops her hand immediately. "I keep forgetting. Even when I look at you," she admits.

Kara doesn't understand that at all. She feels that ever-present wrongness in every part of her. This body that she's walking in, it's not hers. She sits down behind Cat's desk and looks at the computer in front of her and, for the first time in a while, feels small. Cat does this every day. Kara doesn't even know where to begin.

"It's not too bad," Cat says, unexpectedly gentle, at her side. She leans over Kara's shoulder, tapping a finger against the computer spacebar. Kara looks at the point of Cat's chin — her chin — the line of her neck. It sends a weird feeling through her, an unexpected thrill at the proximity. Kara swears she can still smell Cat's perfume. "Oh, that's an email I'm going to have to look at," Cat says, scrolling through her inbox.

"Miss Grant, maybe you should, um, move a little," Kara whispers, her voice suddenly husky.

Cat blinks, glancing down at Kara, noticing how close they are. There, in her cheeks, little spots of color bloom. "Ah. Uh. Yes. Thank you. Here, um. You take this tablet and pretend you're looking at layouts. I'll go through the emails on the couch."

Cat's perfume seems to linger, even after Cat moves away. Kara stares down at the tablet in her hands and doesn't see a single thing.

 

*

 

Kara hasn't brought it up with Alex only because she knows what Alex would say. She can picture it — the two of them sitting over coffee at Noonan's. Kara fiddling with her pumpkin spice, turning the mug around and around in her hands, and Alex with her black coffee, wondering what the hell is going on. Kara can see the disapproving look on Alex's face, the way Alex's voice would sharpen because seriously, Kara, this can't happen, and that's when Kara just cuts off that entire line of thought because there's no point to it.

Then again, there's no point to having a crush on your boss, but Kara's doing it anyway.

Apparently, not even being bodyswapped is enough to make her feelings go away.

Cat spends almost the entire day with Kara. It's more time than they usually spend together, even in their normal boss-employee relationship. She takes up residence on the couch, instructing Kara on what to say on the phone, writing her letter from the editor for CatCo magazine, going over photoshoots. Kara just tries to shuffle Cat's schedule around as best she can, pushing back meetings to the following week. She's really banking on being back in the right body by Wednesday. If all else fails, maybe she can fake Cat's death.

It's distracting being a human. Kara feels aches and tenderness in spots she's never noticed. Between her shoulderblades. In her lower back. Her eyes hurt from looking at a screen. She's starting to understand why Cat asks her to book so many massages and acupuncture treatments. She has to get up and stretch in the middle of the day. Cat raises an eyebrow.

"Not used to it?" she asks.

"I just don't usually feel this," Kara says.

Cat moves her shoulders experimentally. "Huh. I hadn't given it much thought, but you're correct. The benefits of being a young alien, I suppose." She brushes a lock of hair out of her face, and Kara finds herself studying the movement. It's more Cat than Kara, this irritable gesture, and it looks both wildly out of place and incredibly reassuring. Proof that Cat's in there, behind her own familiar face.

"Miss Grant," Kara starts hesitantly. "I… I'm worried that this will be longer than we thought."

Cat freezes over her laptop. She doesn't look up. "That's unacceptable, Kiera. You know that."

"But we don't even know — " Kara cuts herself off. Because she _does_ know. Or at least have a guess.

"What?" Cat says, finally glancing up.

"The rock. The Kryptonian rock," Kara breathes. "I have to call Alex."

By the end of the workday, Cat's managed to get through a mountain of work, and Alex has tracked down a sample of the Kryptonian rock. Or what's left of it. Kara's spent her energy trying to make it through a meeting with the department heads. The rock news is the best thing she's heard all day.

"How long do you think it'll take you to analyze it?" she asks Alex over the phone, waiting for the last of the CatCo employees to leave so she and Cat can call for the car.

"I don't know. I'm looking into a couple of things," Alex says. A pause. "How are things?"

"Uh."

Half an hour earlier Cat had cracked an actual joke. One with a real punchline and everything. The look on her face when Kara just stared at her in shock was withering, and no amount of weird forced laughter from Kara could change it. Now, her head's bent over a cover mock-up, but Kara can tell she's listening to the phone call. The benefits of super hearing, and Cat Grant is nothing if not opportunistic.

"Good," Kara says vaguely.

"Good? That's all you're going to give me? Okay, everything's _good_ , keep me posted if anything changes." Alex sounds way too amused for someone whose sister is trapped in the wrong body.

"So, no news," Cat says, once Kara hangs up.

"Not yet."

Cat drops the mock-up onto the couch. "Well, no point hanging around here. Call for the car, Kiera. We might as well go home to wait."

There's a brief pause.

"Uh, Miss Grant, usually I call for your car."

"Yes. I know. Which is why I asked — oh." Cat's mouth purses in irritation. "Fine."

Her annoyance persists as they get in the car, but since she can only text Kara her scathing commentary, it's a little less harsh than usual. Still, Kara could do without her phone pinging every three seconds with another item on Cat's to-do list, starting with "tell Ben to turn down the air-conditioner" to "is he driving this slowly because he thinks I'm here to enjoy the ride?" She's relieved when her phone actually rings. Alex.

"Come to the DEO and bring Cat with you," Alex says in lieu of a greeting. "I think I might have something."

She hangs up immediately. Kara glances at Cat.

"Ben," Cat says, leaning forward in her seat, as sweetly as she can. "I think Miss Grant would like you to pull over."

 

*

 

It's oddly unnerving to fly when you're not the one in control. Kara discovers this on the way to the DEO, her arms slung tightly around Cat's neck, her face turned away from the wind. She's not sure she knew how she felt about it until the moment Cat flings themselves into the air, her arms locked around Kara, the two of them hurtling towards the clouds. Kara knows the joy of it when she's Supergirl. Flying clears her mind. It's freeing. She can only imagine Cat feels the same, twisting them in a tight spiral above the National City skyline. They hover for a minute, suspended, Kara hearing her own harsh breathing as she opens one eye to look down.

"Are you scared?" Cat asks, her mouth very close to Kara's ear. For a second Kara forgets where she is.

"I can't help it," she admits. "It's like — some part of my brain that I have no control over."

Kara feels Cat tighten her grip. "I like this view," Cat says, sounding wistful. "You must do this a lot."

"I do," Kara says, thinking of the days when she gets off work, her head buzzing, and does laps around the city. Up here, there's nothing to disturb her.

"I'm almost jealous," Cat says.

Kara can feel it when Cat talks, the rumble in her chest that vibrates against Kara's body. "I can bring you up here sometime. If you want."

Cat's quiet. Kara tilts her head to gaze up at her. There's a breeze ruffling her hair, spilling out behind her in a wave. Beyond her, the setting sun looks almost red, the light peeking in between skyscrapers.

"That's okay. Thank you for the offer. Being manhandled isn't my idea of a good time," Cat says finally.

Disappointment sits heavy in Kara's chest. She swallows against it. "Oh."

Cat glances down at her. "Well. Maybe once. This _is_ kind of fun."

There's a timid smile at the corner of her mouth, and Kara suddenly wants to touch it. She curls her fingers in, resting her closed fist against Cat's chest. Her body, she tells herself, and idly traces the line of Cat's shoulder. Beneath the suit, she can feel muscles jump beneath her touch. Kara wonders how sensitive she is now, in the same spot, and the thought of someone touching her there — of Cat — makes her mouth go dry. Cat makes an involuntary sighing noise, hitching Kara a little higher in her arms.

"It's south," Kara says, gesturing. "I'll direct you when we get closer."

Alex makes a face as soon as they walk in. They're dusty from the flight — Cat flew close to the sand and the force of her speed sprayed it everywhere — and Cat still hasn't quite gotten landings quite right. Her knees are dirty, like a kid coming in from the playground.

"So?" Kara asks.

"This is weird," Alex says, tilting her head to study the two of them. "This is so weird."

Cat has a defensive look, even as she takes in the DEO headquarters. "Why are we here? Did you find something out about the rock?"

"Kind of." Alex leads them into the lab. "We asked your mother."

"Oh," Kara says, surprised.

Cat's gaze flits between the two of them. "I thought your mother…?"

"It's this…projection of her. Not really her. Memories of her. It's artificial intelligence. She can tell me things. Alex, what did she say?"

"Uh, she said it was a joke."

Kara frowns. "What?"

Alex has such a torn expression, Kara realizes, somewhere between laughter and seriousness. "It's a joke. She said it was a joke that was really popular on Krypton during, like, the Krypton version of April Fools Day."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Cat exclaims.

"No, apparently it was actually so popular and caused so much trouble that it had to be banned. They carted it off to some crater. I don't know how it ended up here on earth, but maybe when Krypton exploded, some debris came flying our way."

Next to her, Cat's already launched into a rant about being shanghaied into some intergalactic booby trap, but Kara puts a hand on her shoulder. She squeezes and Cat lapses into silence. A very annoyed silence, Kara can tell, but it's really not the time.

"How long?" Kara asks.

"Well," Alex says. "Alura was a little unclear on that. She said the longest was about a week. Shortest, a few hours. So, our best guess is anywhere from a day to a week."

Cat shrugs off Kara's hand. "How helpful," she says tartly. "What are we supposed to do about it until then?"

"You'll be monitored. That's why I called you in here. I wanted to take your vitals and do a check up. See if everything's okay. Then — just relax. Wait. You'll switch back."

"What a wonderful plan," Cat deadpans.

"Miss Grant," Kara says warningly. Cat shuts up again. "Thanks, Alex."

"Sorry I can't be of more help. So. Let's do those check ups. Uh, Cat, if you want — " Alex glances at Cat's expression and withdraws her hand. "Okay, Kara, let's go first then."

 

*

 

"I can't wait for you to switch back. It's bizarre every time Cat Grant's voice comes out of your body," Alex says, tapping Kara's right knee with a little rubber mallet.

Kara's leg jerks upwards and Alex moves onto the other knee. "I can't believe the rock was just some kind of Kryptonian practical joke."

"Yeah," Alex sighs. "Your mother said they were banned by the time you were a little older, so you couldn't have known. But they were everywhere for a while. Teenagers in particular loved them."

"I bet." Kara grimaces, imagining it.

"Hey, if you wait until after Cat's done, I can drive you back to your apartment. Since, you know. No flying right now."

"Uh, actually." Kara purposefully doesn't look at Alex as she says this. "I'm going to stay at Cat's place."

"…Cat's place?"

Kara nods, still not looking at Alex. "Mmhmm. She, uh, doesn't want anyone to get a picture of her, um, _me_ coming out of my apartment. And, you know, she won't stay at my place, so. She has guest rooms."

"Kara, this is fucking weird," Alex says, getting up from her stool to wash her hands. "She's still your boss."

"We switched bodies, so I think we're a little beyond that now."

Alex scowls. "I know you have a crush on her, but this seems…"

"I — I do not — "

"Oh my god, don't even start." Alex raises up a hand to ward off Kara's protests. "It's like the most obvious thing on the planet. Not even this planet, probably."

Kara goes red. She can feel it, all hot down her neck. "I wouldn't worry about it. It's not like Cat would ever — well, apparently it's obvious, and she clearly hasn't, so."

Alex busies herself with a few bottles on a tray, rearranging them. "Come on, Kara," she says, quiet. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just trying to look out for you. I want you to be with someone who gets you. Who you feel safe with."

Kara wants to say something about the way Cat flew with her. About how she cradled Kara against her chest, Kara's chin tucked into the hollow of Cat's throat. How Kara could feel her pulse, that steady heartbeat against her own body like a drum. She's not sure she can find the words.

When she glances up, Alex is looking at her, a question in her expression.

"I'll get Cat," is all Kara says and slides off the bench.

 

*

 

Cat lands them both on her rooftop terrace, with strict instructions to find something "high calorie" for dinner while she goes back to Kara's apartment to pack a bag.

"I might be a few minutes trying to find appropriate clothes," she sniffs, and takes off again.

By the time she returns, Kara's setting out four large pizzas on the kitchen island, smothered in cheese and pepperoni and green peppers. Cat nearly lunges for the one closest to the door, cramming a slice into her mouth before she takes the plate Kara offers her with her free hand.

"Hungry," she says, her mouth full.

"Oh, I get it. Believe me." Kara takes a bite of hers. It's good, really good, but somehow different. She's lost the edge to her hunger, the insane drive that she's lived with for as long as she's been on earth. She remembers the first time she sat down to dinner at the Danvers house. She inhaled three servings of lasagna almost immediately.

Cat takes a second slice, eating more slowly now. "Do you always eat like this?"

"Basically. I have to keep protein bars in my desk at work."

"Yes, I've seen you eating them when you think I'm not looking." Cat gives an amused chuckle at Kara's face. "I notice things, Kiera."

Kara thinks to what Alex said. About her crush being obvious. "I know, Miss Grant."

"Why don't you drop that? At least while it's just the two of us. Cat will do." Cat brushes crumbs off her fingers and into the sink. She grabs another slice. "Do you want some wine?"

"Oh, I don't. Um. I mean, I can't get drunk. Alien metabolism."

Cat raises an eyebrow. "You can now. Besides, that's not the reason to drink wine. Well, sometimes. But there are quicker and less expensive ways to get drunk."

"You don't seem like you'd choose the less expensive way, Miss Grant. Cat," Kara amends.

Cat unstoppers a bottle of wine from the small wine fridge beneath the counter. "Yes, well." She pours the remainder of the liquid into two glasses. "I drink wine for the taste. Come on." She grabs a pizza box and motions for Kara to follow her.

She leads Kara down the hall, around the corner, and into what Kara assumes must be the den. It's cozy. Even slightly messy. Lots of blankets piled on the couch in front of the television. A collection of video games strewn across the coffee table. Cat pushes them aside as she sets the pizza box down and takes a sip of her wine. She makes a pleased hum, sitting down on the floor. Kara hesitates for half a second before she joins Cat, leaning against the couch.

"I eat here sometimes when Carter's away," Cat says, reaching for more pizza. Kara pushes the box towards her.

Kara plays with the stem of her glass. "You said, um, this morning. Your ex-husband's getting remarried?"

Cat rolls her eyes. "I'm an adult, Kiera. I don't need you to coddle my feelings. We don't have to talk about it. I am fine. Better than fine. I consider myself escaped and better for it."

"Okay." But Kara knows better. She waits.

Cat takes a gulp of wine. "She's nineteen. His fiancé. They met while he was in Hawaii. Supposedly he and Patricia were already separated by then, but who knows." She gives Kara a quick look. "Patricia was… You can extrapolate. At least she was age-appropriate with a career of her own."

"Uh, that's — that's young. Wow. Nineteen," Kara says. She's calculated the age difference between her and Cat. Twenty-four years. It's twice Kara's age. Well, she can make the argument that, really, she's older, but Kara suspects it wouldn't hold water with Cat. The thought makes her moody and she takes a large swig of wine. Swallows.

"Do you like it?" Cat asks, scrutinizing her.

"Um," Kara says. "Yup. It's great."

Cat smiles. Not a Kara smile, bright and sunny. A Cat smile — wry and pleased. "You'll adjust. Smaller sips next time, Kiera."

They turn on the TV and work their way through another pizza, Cat with her running commentary on CNN. Kara makes her change the channel before she can throw a slice of pizza at Wolf Blitzer's face. She has another glass of wine and it makes her warm, her fingers tingling with it. She's never been drunk. Never been able to get drunk before. She made some half-hearted attempts in college, but Kara found that alcohol was way less fun when she was the only one sober. She drinks now, occasionally, with Alex when they go out. Just to help herself blend in. She can almost experience it through Alex, that loosening of tension in her body. The giddiness.

This is different, Kara senses. The wine is bitter and slightly acidic, but layered. It comes on slow, heating her up from the inside. She kicks off Cat's heels and leaves them next to the couch.

"Do you watch TV?" she asks after another glass, the room pleasantly fuzzy. She has her cheek pressed against a couch cushion.

Cat laughs. "Kiera, has the wine made you forget who you work for?"

"No, I know you watch the news. I was wondering if you watch TV. Like, shows. Entertainment."

"Well, that's different." Cat shrugs. "Sometimes. Not often. I don't have the time."

"What was the last show you watched?"

Cat squints, thinking. "Hm. Carter and I watched the X-Files. I saw most of it back when it aired, of course, but Carter was too scared to watch it by himself. Don't tell him I told you that."

Kara grins.

"He likes cooking shows. I've seen some of those with him. I guess not much these days."

Kara nods slowly, studying Cat. She's adjusting — both to the wine and the out-of-body sensation. It might just be the alcohol though, swimming through her system.

"Why do you want to know?" Cat asks.

"I want to know what you do for fun," Kara says.

"I work," Cat replies, and Kara can't tell if she's serious or not. "I spend time with my son. I don't have a lot of time for myself. And what about you, Supergirl? What do you when you're not working for me or saving National City from aliens?"

"Um, I watch Netflix," Kara says. "With my sister."

"You're young. I'm sure you do other things. Go out. Have fun. Go on dates. See friends."

"Oh, well, I don't really, um. Go on dates. Well, I do. Date. Occasionally. For a while last year Alex was trying to get me to do this thing where I went out with someone every week, but I hated it. But now I'm pretty busy, so. Dating's not really — well, there was your, uh, your son — and, um, James and I went out a few times. I don't know if you knew about that. Okay, maybe you did. Probably did. It wasn't good though. It was awkward." Kara wishes there was some superpower that would make her stop talking. "So, yeah, I don't, uh. I don't really date."

Cat puts her glass down on the coffee table, turning it slightly. The light reflects off the rim. "I see. You don't really date."

"No, I don't."

She might be imagining it, but she thinks Cat's moved a little closer. Kara shifts, arching in, watching Cat's face as her gaze goes from Kara's mouth to her eyes.

It's almost too much. Kara's heart beats rapidly in her chest, this frenzied tapping that she knows Cat can hear. There's something whooshing in her ears, like when she dives down in flight.

Kara holds her breath.

Cat puts two fingers against the side of Kara's jaw, follows the line up to her ear. The touch sends ripples of longing through Kara. Through her body. Every inch of her, wanting.

"This is a really bad idea," Cat mumbles, her lips so close that Kara can feel the words against her skin.

Oh.

Kara leans in, her eyes shutting. She bumps her nose against Cat's cheek, her jaw, her ear. Cat's so warm, the heat coming off her, and Kara can smell the perfume again, enveloping her. It's not just wishful thinking this time. Cat reaches an arm around Kara, sliding her fingers beneath the fall of Kara's hair, her palm against Kara's bare neck. She traces the jut of Kara's spine, stroking the bone with her thumb until Kara thinks her knees turn to water.

Kara's hands are trembling.

"Cat," she murmurs, and then Kara angles her face in and kisses her.

Sensory overload, Kara barely manages to think, before Cat kisses her back. It's soft, almost reverent. Strange and wonderful. Cat's mouth is warm and wet, the noise she makes in the back of her throat exquisite. Kara groans into it, and the sound seems to make Cat clutch her harder. Kara cups Cat's face between her hands, pushing her hair back, trying to get as close as she can.

Cat tastes like the wine, rich and earthy. She was right. Kara does like the taste now.

"Kara," Cat says, pulling back. "Stop. You're drunk." 

She extricates herself from Kara's grasp, straightening her shirt. Kara touches her mouth with one hand. Her lips are warm, swollen.

"I'm not," she says. The only thing she can think to say.

Cat won't look at her. She starts cleaning up the empty pizza box, the glasses. "You are. I let you have too much. I wasn't thinking."

"Cat, I'm an adult," Kara says, struggling to her feet as Cat moves past her, back to the kitchen. "I'm twenty-four. I can make my own decisions."

"Please don't remind me," Cat says, her back to Kara. She opens the dishwasher. "God, I'm almost as bad as my ex-husband. At least you're out of college."

Kara sways, just a little bit. She braces herself against the doorframe. "I want to."

Cat turns to face her. "You won't in the morning when you're sober. Go to bed, Kara."

"Cat — "

"Please."

It's the please that does it. There's a tone of finality in there, interlaced with a hint of pleading. Kara backs out of the kitchen in her bare feet.

She finds an empty guest bedroom with pajamas already laid out by the pillow. Kara changes into them, brushing her teeth in the adjoining bathroom. She's already feeling less fuzzy, the glare of the overhead light sharpening the lines of the world around her. Cat's face stares back at her as she spits toothpaste into the sink. It makes her stomach churn. She briefly considers showering, but can't muster up the energy to try to deal with that while in the wrong body. Instead she just turns out the lights and crawls into the huge bed, burying her face in a pillow.

She falls asleep, humiliation a blanket over her head.

 

*

 

Kara wakes up tired. It's such a rare thing that she's briefly surprised. She rolls over, swimming through the unfamiliar fog in her brain. There's a dull ache throbbing in her temples, a slow pulse that rolls through her. She feels off-center somehow. Kara takes a deep breath. She's nauseous, she thinks. Maybe. She can't quite tell and she can't bring herself to open her eyes yet.

She hears a rustle from outside and sits up. It's a mistake. Her head spins.

"Ugh," she mutters, hands coming up to couch her face.

Which. Right. It's not her face. It's Cat's face. She's still in Cat's body. Kara doesn't know how she forgot that singular detail.

When she stumbles in the kitchen, Cat's already up, poking something in a pan. She's in one of Kara's familiar button-downs. There's a glass of water and a small dish with two painkillers on the counter. Kara recognizes them from the many times she's handed them over to Cat in the office.

"Take them," Cat says. "You'll feel better."

"Thanks," Kara croaks. She collapses onto one of the stools by the island. The water tastes good, clean. She drains the glass and Cat refills it, bringing it back, droplets clinging to her fingers.

"Here." Cat pushes a plate towards her. A fluffy yellow omelette. Kara would be impressed if she thought she could keep it down. She slides it away.

"I don't think, um. I don't feel well."

Cat pushes the plate back. "You're hungover. Trust me. Eat something."

Kara can tell that Cat's not in the mood for an argument. She bends her head obediently, forking a bite of omelette into her mouth. It's perfect. Buttery and soft. Kara eats another bite. Cat smiles a little, going back to the stove. She returns a few minutes later with her own plate, and the two of them eat in companionable silence. By the time she's finished, Kara's headache has receded into the back of her brain. She squints at Cat, and a curious tendril of memory unfurls. Last night. Lots of wine. A kiss.

Oh god.

"Kiera, are you okay?" Cat asks.

"Miss Grant," Kara starts, searching for the right words. How does she even begin to apologize for this? "I'm really sorry about last night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was, just, I — I had too much to drink."

Cat's face goes very still. Kara recognizes the look. She's had the same expression, but she's not sure why Cat does. "Oh. Well. That's perfectly fine. We all do things when we've had too much."

Like kiss your boss who you have a massive crush on who also happens to be trapped in your body. Right. Of course. Not that Kara needed to be drunk to do that, though it certainly didn't hurt. "Sure. Uh. Thanks for breakfast. I'm gonna, um, go take a shower."

She can't read what emotions play across Cat's face as she flees the kitchen, but she probably wouldn't want to anyway.

 

*

 

Kara turns the shower on in the bathroom, letting the water heat up as she gazes at herself in the mirror. Cat's eyes, nose, mouth. Something about it has become familiar to Kara in the day since she's inhabited Cat's body, and she skates a finger across Cat's cheekbone. It's weird. She misses Cat. Seeing her as herself. Kara looks down at her pajamas, still fully dressed, and tries to breathe. It could be a week before they switch back and it's not like she can go that long without showering. Around her, the bathroom steams up, fogging over her reflection.

It should make it easier.

She starts undoing the buttons on the shirt, like the day before, but she stops halfway. She can remember the feeling of Cat's mouth against hers, the sweetness of the kiss. Cat kissed her back, Kara recalls with a start.

"Kiera?" A soft knock.

Kara opens the door. Cat's standing on the other side, holding an armful of clothes — jeans, a soft flannel shirt, bra and underwear. She's frozen though, looking at Kara, her pajama top half-unbuttoned.

"I was just…" Kara trails off.

"It's nothing I haven't seen. Obviously. Here you go. Clean outfit."

She hands the clothes over. Without anything to hold, she looks a little lost. Almost nervous. Maybe that's what possesses Kara to ask. She can't be certain. But what comes out of her mouth next is this:

"Will you help me?"

"What?"

Kara gestures to herself. "It's…weird. I don't know. I thought, maybe…"

The excuse is flimsy. Cat would see right through it. She would purse her lips and roll her eyes and say, honestly Kiera, do you really believe something so transparent would work? But she kissed you back, Kara tells herself, so she stands there in the doorway of the bathroom, the shower running behind her, looking at Cat.

"O-okay." Cat stutters. She actually stutters.

Kara sets the clothes down on a little bench in the bathroom as Cat shuts the door behind her. There's no real reason to do it — they're the only two in the whole house — but it seems necessary. Kara leans against the edge of the sink, the cold marble digging into the small of her back. Cat takes a wary step closer. She licks her lower lip unconsciously, and Kara's whole body seems to flood with heat.

"Here," Cat says, low and rough, reaching for the half-undone buttons.

She finishes unbuttoning them with aching slowness. The tips of her fingers brush Kara's bare skin and Kara lets out a small hiss of breath. Cat doesn't react. She just tugs a little at the collar. Kara gets the hint. She slides out of the top, letting it puddle onto the floor beside them. Cat inhales sharply.

"Thank you," Kara whispers, her face so close to Cat's. It's making her dizzy.

This time it's Cat who leans in first. She dips her head and slants her mouth over Kara's, tilting Kara's chin up with one hand. It's different from last night — hotter, more aggressive. There's a hunger to the kiss that Kara wants to claim as her own. She winds her arms behind Cat's neck, kissing back. She doesn't want to leave any room for interpretation. I want this, Kara thinks, pressing their bodies flush. I want you.

"Do you know," Cat breathes against Kara's mouth, "how stupid this is?"

Kara shakes her head. "It's not. I want to, Cat. I've wanted to for months."

Cat pauses, her fingers tightening in Kara's hair. "I've wanted to for _years_."

Her words send a hot liquid feeling through Kara. She presses her lips to Cat's jaw and Cat's breathing hitches. She pulls Kara into her, running a hand down Kara's bare back, resting it on the waistband of Kara's pajama bottoms. She drops her head to kiss Kara's naked shoulder, sucking a red mark against her skin. It hurts in the most delicious way and Kara whimpers.

Cat takes a shuddering breath. "A twenty-four-year-old. God." But she doesn't move away. She just runs a finger down the length of Kara's breastbone, her eyes darkening.

"I mean, if it helps." Kara smiles a little. "I'm older right now."

"I suppose it can't get weirder than this," Cat says, leaning her forehead against Kara's.

Kara lightly traces the curve of Cat's ear. Her ear. "No, I don't think so."

It seems like permission enough for Cat, because she kisses Kara again, desperate. Lips and tongue and teeth. A searing kiss. Kara busies herself with undoing Cat's shirt, cursing her lack of super speed, because she just wants it off. She wants to see, even though it's her, and if she thinks about it too long, she'll realize how fucked up it is, so she doesn't. Kara pushes the shirt off Cat's shoulders and Cat reaches behind herself and undoes the clasp of the bra and — Kara leans forward to press kisses against hot exposed skin.

She cups the curve of Cat's breast in her hand. There's a part of her brain that's examining it, the smooth unblemished skin, the pink nipple tightening under Kara's gaze. Like it's not her body, the one she normally walks in. She draws a hand down the side of Cat's ribcage, digging her nails in, and Cat makes a _noise_ that Kara wants to hear over and over again.

Cat hauls her bodily up, sitting her on the counter next to the sink. Kara's forgotten about Cat's human body, how delicate and small it is. Cat's mouth leaves marks peppering Kara's skin — against the side of her breast, along her ribs, next to her bellybutton. Kara slides her fingers into Cat's hair, tugging, tangling herself in the strands. Cat lets out a puff of air against Kara's stomach, reaching up to grab Kara's hand. It's a little too hard, her fingers closing around Kara's wrist, and Kara must make a sound. A whimper or a gasp of pain.

Cat lets go immediately. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to — "

"No, don't," Kara says. She examines her wrist. It's faintly red, marked by the shape of Cat's fingertips. Kara's fingertips. Kara can imagine what it'll look like later. She thinks about Cat going into work, a bracelet around the bruise because people would ask questions.

Something tightens in Kara's gut, twisting hot. She reaches down and pulls Cat back up to her, claiming her mouth, moaning into the kiss. Cat runs her thumb across Kara's nipple and it hardens beneath Cat's touch, sending a jolt through Kara.

"Please," she thinks she says. Or maybe she hallucinates it. She's not sure.

Cat slides a hand beneath the waistband of Kara's pajama bottoms the same moment she sucks Kara's nipple into her mouth, a shock of pleasure that takes Kara's breath away. She jerks her hips as Cat's fingers find her clit through the damp fabric of her underwear. She knows she's wet, can feel the evidence against the inside of her thighs, but the look on Cat's face confirms it for her.

She gets wetter when she realizes Cat must know exactly where to touch her, all the things that this body likes.

"Off," Cat demands, her eyes flashing. 

She tugs the pajama bottoms down, leaving them around Kara's ankles. Kara tries to steady her breathing, even it out. Cat looks her over and Kara feels embarrassingly exposed. It's a lazy, slow look. Cat taking her time. Kara with legs spread on Cat's bathroom counter in nothing but her underwear, soaking wet and wishing that Cat would just touch her.

"It's funny," Cat says. She rubs a thumb against Kara's knee, right against a sensitive divot of bone. Kara's chest clenches at the feeling, the tension inside of her coiling even tighter.

"W-what?" Kara pants. Everything's blurry from the steam. It feels almost unreal.

"I look really hot," Cat says, and there's something about the matter-of-fact way that she states it that makes Kara _wetter_ somehow. Because if there's anyone on this planet who would be turned on fucking themselves, it would be Cat Grant.

She groans at the thought and Cat smirks, reaching her hand up again, beneath the scrap of damp fabric clinging to Kara, and thrusts two fingers into her.

Kara comes immediately. Whiting out. Fingers digging into the countertop.

Cat fucks her through the orgasm, crooking her fingers inside Kara, and Kara shivers. She can't seem to stop. She's so sensitive it's practically painful, every movement from Cat making her cry out. She reaches out a hand to brace herself against Cat's shoulder. Cat leans in, letting Kara tuck her face into her neck, and Kara pants, broken, as Cat fingers her to a second orgasm.

She comes harder the second time, pulled taut with pleasure, high on the touch and taste and smell of Cat.

Kara blinks, her body still trembling. Around them, the bathroom's filled with steam, and everything is damp and foggy. Cat pulls her fingers from Kara, and the feeling makes Kara moan.

"Was it good?" Cat asks, a little bit teasingly. Kara can see her eyes, the pupils blown wide, as she presses a kiss against the side of Kara's head.

Kara laughs, breathless. "When I get the feeling back in my legs, I'll show you how good it was."

Cat moves towards the bathtub, turning off the shower. The room suddenly goes quiet, save for the faint dripping of water, and Kara's breathing.

"So," Cat says, lightly, but Kara can read her. How nervously she holds herself. How cautious. Kara can read all of her. Not just because it's her body but because it's Cat.

"So," Kara says back.

She slides off the counter and onto the tiled floor. Her legs shake, but hold her steady. Cat doesn't move as Kara approaches, winding her arms around Cat's neck. Kara kisses her. Gentle at first, and then more heatedly. Cat melts into it, and the feeling of her pliable and sweet in Kara's embrace is almost better than the sex. Almost.

When Kara pulls away, it's Cat who follows. Her skin is flushed pink. It's a pity, Kara thinks, that she won't bruise. She would have liked to keep those marks to remember this by.

"Let's find somewhere more comfortable, Miss Grant," Kara says, hooking two fingers through the belt loop of Cat's jeans.

Cat makes a face. "Kara, don't tease."

"It's nice when you say my name correctly," Kara says. She kisses Cat's cheek, closes her eyes and breathes Cat in.

"Only when you deserve it," Cat grumbles, but there's no bite to it. "And as much as I like this verbal sparring, I'd very much like to see what else you can do."

Kara gives Cat one of her brilliant smiles. Pure sunshine. "I'm game." And she lets Cat take her hand, pulling her into the hallway.

 

*

 

Later, sprawled in the mid-afternoon sunshine in Cat's bed, Kara draws lazy patterns with her finger on Cat's skin. She moves up Cat's arms, over the biceps and shoulders, down the gentle slope of Cat's back, into the dip right before Cat's hips. Kara strokes each knob of Cat's spine, traces the outline of every rib, caresses the swell of her hipbones. It's touch without a purpose. Just simple enjoyment. Exploration of Cat's body and by proxy, Kara's. She's never seen it from this angle, never been able to map so much of it with her hands.

"What are you looking for?" Cat asks, lifting from her head from where it's pillowed on her arms.

Kara shakes her head. "Nothing. Just looking."

Her muscles ache in the sweetest way and she stretches like a cat. The sun feels good against her skin. She tucks herself against Cat's body. The windows are thrown open, a teasing breeze blowing through the room, and Kara thinks that the moment is perfect. The way Cat throws an arm around Kara's waist to bring her closer, how their hair tangle together in the sheets.

Cat touches Kara's chin. "Supergirl," she says.

"That's you right now," Kara says. She pauses. "You did a good job with that car accident. Yesterday morning on the 116. I never told you that."

Cat preens. It's the only way Kara can describe it. "Thank you."

"Okay, well, you could stand to be a touch more humble," Kara says.

Cat rolls her eyes. "Being humble didn't get me to where I am today, Kara."

"In bed with a superhero?"

"Precisely."

Another long moment of warm silence. Kara never wants to leave this bed. She's always thought her bed at home was comfortable — though it's nothing compared to whatever exorbitantly expensive mattress Cat has — and she's definitely certain that her Ikea-brand sheets don't match up to Cat's thread count. It's too bad that when she woke up here the other day she didn't really get the chance to fully enjoy this bed, but now she's pretty sure it's the greatest place she's ever been. Her eyes are flickering shut when Cat speaks again.

"I'm still going to call you Kiera at work."

Kara nods. "I think if you switched it up, people would talk."

"People might still talk. Cat's tone is suddenly serious. "This… Are you sure this is okay?"

Kara looks at Cat, her face worried and open. "Yeah. Of course. Unless…you're not okay with it?" A sharp spike of panic goes through her. She sits up. "I mean, we don't have to — I don't — I want you to be comfortable with it. I'm not, like, seducing you or anything. I mean, maybe a little, but not like in a blackmailing kind of way — "

"We have to get you elocution lessons," Cat says, tugging Kara back down. "Maybe an acting class. Kara, it's okay with me, but I'm not really the party in question here. I'm still your boss."

"I know." Kara shrugs. "I don't mind."

"Let me know the minute you _do_ mind."

"I promise, Cat." She yawns. "I think I'm getting used to being human. To being you."

Cat frowns. "Don't get too comfortable."

"No," Kara says. "I miss it. Being Supergirl."

"And I miss seeing Supergirl. Do I have your sister to thank for keeping things easy on me the last two days?"

"Mmhmm. The DEO's taking care of things. I told her you were reserved for emergencies only."

"That was nice of you, but I wouldn't have minded," Cat says. "I can see why you like it. Saving people."

Kara smiles. "I know you would. You save people in your own way, Cat."

"Perhaps."

Kara presses a kiss to Cat's bare shoulder. "Always," she counters.

"One day you're going to realize that this blind faith in me is sadly misplaced," Cat says, voice sleepy. "A product of delusional millennial optimism."

"No, I'm pretty sure I'm right," Kara tells her, closing her eyes.

If Cat replies after that, she doesn't remember. Instead, she dreams.

 

*

 

Kara wakes up in the right body. She knows it before she even wakes up fully. She feels it, humming in her bones, like every part of her is welcoming her back. She wiggles her toes, her fingers. Moves her arms and legs. She listens to the traffic outside, clear as a bell. A conversation in the diner three blocks from here. The doormen exchanging greetings in the lobby below. Kara opens her eyes and just lies there, content. Finally.

She rolls onto her stomach. "Cat," she says, a small thrill going through her as she looks down at Cat's sleeping face. It's peaceful, familiar, and stupidly beautiful. "Cat," Kara repeats, a little louder.

"No," Cat says, her eyes still shut.

"We're back," Kara says.

Cat does wake up at that. She stretches, sitting up slowly, rotating her neck in circles. "There were some benefits to being in your body," she mutters.

"Yeah, but," Kara ducks her head, feeling suddenly shy, "I get to see you now."

"How sentimental of you," Cat says, but she's smiling like she's happy.

There's energy buzzing beneath Kara's skin. She feels _wonderful_. Like she's been sunbathing for days. Cat seems to sense it. She runs a hand along Kara's arm, dropping a kiss to the crook of Kara's elbow.

"Go," she says.

"What?" Kara asks.

"You know what. Go fly. Circle the city. Come back to me later." Cat brushes back a few wayward strands of Kara's hair, wild from sleep. "Show everyone that Supergirl's still around."

Kara gets out of bed, searching the floor of Cat's room for her clothes. "She never left. You would've stepped in, if someone needed you to."

"I'm glad it's you though." Cat hooks her arms around her knees, pulling them up to her chest. She watches Kara through half-hooded eyes.

Kara wonders if her heart could burst. She can hear Cat's pulse drumming in time with her own. "Me too," she says, grinning so broadly her cheeks hurt. "Me too."

 

*

 

"Thank god you're back," Alex says, grabbing Kara into a tight hug the second she strides into the DEO. "I was starting to lose patience with that stupid rock."

Kara squeezes her back. "It wasn't that bad. Really. Of all the alien rocks I could've touched, at least it was relatively benign."

"Relatively benign? You switched bodies with Cat Grant for almost 48 hours."

"There are worse things."

Alex frowns, leaning in close. "You seem really happy."

"Just, uh, really glad to be back. Super glad. Like, more than super glad. I'm ecstatic. Being a human was a little limiting."

"Uh-huh," Alex says, sounding suspicious.

"Oh, come on," Lucy says, walking through, not even glancing at them. "Babe, she totally had sex with Cat."

Kara goes bright red. "What?! No — I — "

"You did _what_?!" Alex exclaims simultaneously.

Lucy laughs, watching the two of them. "My job is amazing."

 

*

 

Kara takes the long route back to Cat's penthouse. She tucks and twists through the air, swirling through wind currents. She dives towards the ground, banking upwards at the last-minute, bursting through a few low-hanging clouds. She darts around the tops of the skyscrapers and does three lazy laps around the CatCo Worldwide Media sign, blinking at her in the dark. Something warm curls in her chest, happiness setting into the lines of her body. She's missed everything about this.

She finds Cat on the phone outside on her terrace. Kara drops down near her. Cat's eyes follow Kara as she walks, even as she murmurs into the phone.

"That's wonderful, sweetheart. I'm glad you had fun." A pause. "Oh, you miss me, do you? Are you sure you aren't having a blast without me?" Another pause. "I miss you too, Carter. Of course." Cat beckons Kara to come a little closer. "Before you go — what do you think of Kara being around a little more? …Well, I'm glad you think she's fun. Not more fun than me, I hope. Okay. You dig yourself out of that hole. I'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

Kara hangs back, unsure. "Sounds like Carter had a good time."

"There was apparently a really cool girl at the wedding reception who also likes video games and superheroes. I just hope he's not somehow related to her now," Cat says. "How was flying?"

"Wonderful," Kara smiles and can't resist a little bit of teasing. "Wanna go? I can take you right now."

"Another time," Cat says. "Come here."

Kara moves in close, until she can see the slight flutter of Cat's eyelashes. She settles her hands at Cat's waist. It's different holding Cat like this, pulling her in against Kara's chest. She's so fragile, all breakable human bones beneath her skin. Kara wonders how gentle she'll have to be. Well, maybe not too gentle. Cat kisses her, once, twice. Small, chaste kisses. Kara releases her breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it.

Cat adjusts the fall of Kara's cape. Her fingers linger on Kara's shoulders. "Are you staying the night?"

"Do you want me to?"

She lays a thumb against Kara's cheek, stroking it. "What do you think, Kara? I think you're smart enough to know by now."

Kara catches Cat's hands with her own. Those familiar hands. Slender fingers, delicate wrists. She presses a kiss to the heel of Cat's palm. "I think my chances are good."

"Oh?" Cat's lips quirk upwards. "For what?"

"For a positive reception," Kara says.

Cat's smile is its own reward. Slow and secret, every inch of it earned. "I think you just might be correct, Supergirl."

She twists herself out of Kara's grasp, walking back into the penthouse. Kara watches Cat for a second and then she follows, her cape billowing out behind her.

She stays the night.


End file.
